KitKat Chunky Taste Test

There are very few things in life that I feel qualified to openly critique. I am fashion clueless, I love films other people hate, my music taste are too diverse to qualify me as an expert in anything. I think to be a critic, you need to KNOW what you're critiquing. You need to know what else is on the market, in order to draw a fair comparison.
But Nestle have just launched their four new Kit Kat Chunky flavours - and if there's one thing I know, it's chocolate.
I am still mourning the loss of Nestle Secret bars from the 1990s, and since then have been relentlessly seeking a replacement for the chocolate bar shaped hole in my heart. Could one of the new Kit Kat Chunky range be it?!

So, let the taste testing begin.  In the interest of non-gender specific testing, my boyfriend has kindly volunteered to join me in the testing. My hypothesis is that the hazelnut will be the ruling class, mimicking the Kinder Bueno in a balance of chocolate nuttiness. Boyfriend thinks choc-fudge will be the victor. (I am starting to think I have chosen my lab partner incorrectly. Choc-fudge is far too predictable to really be a contender, surely?)

Coconut
1. Attractive packaging. I like the palm leaves which give an exotic feel.
2. Definite coconutty-whiff on opening the packet. ('Good' according to Lab partner.)
3. Looks just like a KitKat Chunky.
4. Coconut flavour is subtle, but distinct. Good aftertaste. Satisfying. Makes me want another KitKat. (Although to be fair, I usually feel that way after a KitKat.)
5. Calories - 246

Score:
Boyfriend: 7/10
Me: 6.5/10

Overall - It's nicer than a Bounty, but I think a dark chocolate covering would have pushed this into the high 8s.

Choc-Fudge
1. Packaging - Boring. In fact what I assume is the pile of fudge, at a distance looks a bit like poo.
2. Very fudgy smell - too sickly!
3. Clearly visible fudge layer, nice contrast with pale wafer.
4. Strong fudge taste, over powers the chocolate
5. Calories - 256

Score:
Boyfriend: 6/10
Me: 4/10

Overall - No, no no. Did they learn nothing from the mistakes of a Cadbury Fudge? Bleurgh. A last resort chocolate bar.

Hazelnut
1. Packaging - We can find nothing to say about this.
2. Very subtle nut scent - hardly noticeable.
3. Taste - disappointing. (Boyfriend: 'It's like someone's thrown up in that bar.') Too sweet. Totally eclipsed by a Bueno.
4. Calories - 260 (The highest scoring of the new KitKat bunch.)

Score:
Boyfriend: 5/10
Me: 5/10

Overall: The Bueno is a KING of chocolate bars. Ferrerro Rocher has set a high standard in hazelnut and chocolate confectionary. You need to have something special if you're going to try and usurp those thrones, and this is a massive disappointment. Shame on you Nestle.

Mint
1. Good packaging - stands out, clearly Mint, or Pea flavoured. A savvy shopper would know which.
2. Good peppermint scent.
3. Inside, looks like a KitKat Chunky.
4. Good flavour, but predictable. Not surprising.
5. Calories - 246

Score:
Boyfriend: 6.5/10
Me: 6/10

Overall: Yeah it's nice, but it's not really challenging any boundaries is it? Mint Kitkats exist already, so this feels like a bit of a cheat.

So the winner is: COCONUT KITKAT CHUNKY!!! (And it's one of the lowest calorie options - Yippee!)

Congratulations Coconut one, you should be very proud. But I'm afraid Peanut Butter KitKat Chunky is still the KitKat Chunky of choice in this household.

The traditional NY resolutions blogpost

1. Join Slimming World, lose weight. Approx 3 stone. 

2. Exercise. 

3. Get into a routine with the kids of reading and homework. It's shameful how much I have let this slide.

4. Worry less. 

5. Blog, at least once a week. I miss writing. 

Christmas morning - in solo style

This is my first Christmas morning without the kids. Either my bodyclock has naturally adjusted over the last seven years or I drank too much last night - because I haven't been able to sleep properly and so I got up at 6am and started the washing up.

Over the last couple of weeks when I've told people I'm not having the boys for Christmas day I get two questions:
1. Is this your first Christmas without them?
2. How are you feeling about that?
(The second question is asked with a sympathetic head tilt or small frown.)

Yes, it is my first Christmas without them. I'm not sure if that is supposed to make it worse or better. Anyone who knows me will tell you I'm a big fan of the novelty factor, and to be honest, it being the first one actually makes it a bit easier. I've not been sure how I was going to feel or what it was going to be like so I've pretty much sat back and gone with the flow.

Christmas Eve is my favourite night of the year. It feels really magical, watching the kids get so excited, listening to Christmas songs on the radio, all the preparation and anticipation... And yesterday did feel a little odd, not putting the boys to bed and then yelling at them that if Father Christmas won't come if they don't go to sleep.

Instead, we went to the pub, met up with old friends and I got sloshed. Very grown up Christmas.

A few people have said that they would never be able to let their ex have their kids on Christmas. I can understand it, and maybe this makes me a totally crap parent but - I am actually not upset or down about it.

I also don't want to be the kind of single parent who jealously guards Christmas time with the kids. He is their Dad, and he has much right to spend Christmas Day with them as I do.

I've spoken to the boys this morning on the phone, and they're really excited about coming home tomorrow to more presents, and they're excited about Christmas Day with their Dad. Meanwhile I have been thoroughly spoiled by my fabulous boyfriend, and have had a perfectly lazy and relaxed start to the day.

I knew this Christmas was going to be different and I wasn't sure how I was going to feel about it. But so far, it is still just as magical for me. Christmas is about the kids, yes, but it's also about the grown ups. I am embracing my lovely day with my gorgeous partner and entertaining his Mum, something I am really looking forward to. And, as it's ten past twelve, and I don't have to worry about being too responsible, AND the nasty after effects of last nights festivities have totally worn off, I'm going to have a glass of wine.

Merry Christmas to you all!

12 things... updated

It's been a really really long time since I revisited my 12 things to do in 2012 list, so here's an update:

1. New tattoo - done. Twice in fact! One on my back, and another on the inside of my left wrist. I love them both, they make me feel proud and individual and they are such a public celebration of things so personal to me. I just love them.

2. Go Kayaking - I am actually going to do this at the weekend!! Weather permitting. I have a child free day, and my best friend suggested we give it a go. I'm glad I'm going to be going out with her, as she's done it before which will stop me feeling totally and utterly clueless. I'm excited, and scared in equal measure.

3. Pitch a freelance article - well, hmpf. No, this isn't going anywhere. One of the worst side effects of my depression is Writer's Block, which hits me hard and fast. Add to that my total lack of confidence in ANYTHING I do at the moment, and it's a no go really.

4. Sing on a stage - Still working on that one too. Maybe Rock Choir in September? Surely there must be a way.

5. Find a hobby - I'm no closer to this either really, unless you count eating out or watching a lot of movies on DVD.

6. Visit a country I've never been to before - Yes, another one done! I went to Germany with the kids and one of my friends and her family and it was fabulous. One for another blogpost.

7. Drink more - nooo, although my new tablets mean I can't drink wine so I am drinking a lot of Coke and Appletiser in the evenings. Does that count?

8. Walk from Bishopstoke to Winchester like I used to with Dad - This is so easy to do, WHY haven't I organised it yet? I must.

9.  Read a classic novel - Having softened myself up by watching the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice  (Colin Firth is luscious) I am about to start the book today. Wish me luck.

10. Lose three stone - HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

11. See a Shakespeare play - No, and again, this can't be that hard! I will organise something. I must.

12. Take the kids to the Isle of Wight - I was talking about this at work today. I am very very determined that we are going to do this. I have no idea when or how to pay for it.

Depression is...

I saw this on Mumsnet today, and it struck a chord with me, so I wanted to share it. According to the poster, it's by Marisse Murphy:


"Depression is humiliating. It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognizable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation. If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life.

It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged."

Low Ebb

I do normally try and celebrate all the joys of being a single parent (I know it may not seem like it) but today, well today is low ebb. And quite frankly, I'm not feeling it today.

I have just got back from taking the boys on holiday for five nights to Germany. We stayed on a fantastically family friendly farm, with one of my friends and her partner and children. By the third day, I was reduced to tears by the constant misbehaviour of my eldest son. Later that night, over a glass (or several) of wine, I confessed to my friend that quite frankly, I wanted to hand him over to his father. It killed me to admit it, I don't think I could ACTUALLY go through with it, but I'm exhausted. Bone bloody tired, and he is wearing what little there is left of my fighting spirit away. I cried again, when she said "I get it - we've always thought it was because he was over excited, or tired etc. But this is your life, every day." The fact that finally, someone whose judgement I really trusted, who spoke honestly to me, said to me: "Yes, your life is really fucking hard. It's not normal, or ordinary, and you are not making a fuss. It's hard," just made me break down.

The end of the week improved a small bit, then we're back at home and I have one, maybe two days of respite before his behaviour flares again. Then my youngest, probably feeling attention starved, plays up too. On top of this, today I spent the best part of £100 on shoes for both of them. That means I need to spend £30 less on food for three weeks to cover the extra expense. I'm only spending £50 max at the moment anyway.

Meanwhile, my ex tells me he has booked a holiday. So far he hasn't responded to my question about whether he now has enough annual leave to cover the rest of the school holidays. Did I mention that while we were away, he forgot we'd gone? He didn't know his own children had left the country. Jesus wept.

So today, in a bloody fury, I pummelled my hand into my kitchen cupboard, and broke down in frustrated tears at what feels like an endless bloody battle at the moment. I know that my mental state is not as steady as it was. I know that my depression makes everything seem harder than it actually is. I know that crying about it isn't going to make it any different. I know that my poor little six year old boy is struggling with his emotions, learning to adapt to one parent and testing his boundaries. But what I want to know is: Will it ever get any bloody easier?

Clash of the worlds

Hmm, exactly a month since my last post, where I talked about redressing the balance between work and home. Clearly, I've epically failed at that. I am not surprised.

Today I had a classic case of my worlds clashing together, in a way that when I try to explain to people they don't really understand why it makes me so anxious. Today was a huge event at work, in which I've been a central point in planning, organising and pulling off. I had to be at the office at 8am, and I knew I wouldn't get out of there before 4pm. This is my third event at work in three weeks. Meanwhile I also have to do all the other stuff I usually do, and facilitate a re-brand. Does that sound like a lot? Maybe it doesn't, maybe I'm horribly underachieving but the last six months have been exhausting, terrifying, exciting, challenging and a huge learning curve for me. All in 25 hours a week. And all this culminated in today, this final event of the year.

My Mum agreed to meet me at quarter to eight at mine and take the boys to various people for the day. I left for work at quarter to eight. My Mum is quite famous for not understanding why I get so stressed by my children. Last week, on my birthday, she told me the reason my kids get carried away and are so loud and hyped is because I'm 'harrassed' all the time. I frequently get told that when SHE has them, SHE just TELLS them, and they KNOW.

At half eight, as I ran from a marquee to the main hall, carrying chairs, umbrellas, and with seven people asking me questions, my mobile rang. Mum couldn't remember where she was supposed to be taking eldest, and he'd played her up so she was late and she was really sorry but she'd had to tell eldest off quite badly because he was just a NIGHTMARE.

(I had my phone clenched to my ear by my shoulder as I poured squash for 200 children.)

I asked the question: "Mum, what would you like me to do about this now?"
Her: "Nothing, I'm just telling you."

Ha.

Later that afternoon when I picked the boys up (the event went really well by the way, I feel vaguely proud) it turns out she'd told everyone; Mums in the playground, my childminder, that my eldest had been a nightmare and that's why she was late.

Thanks Mum. I am now the working mother who is too busy to deal with her children, who are so bad even their own grandmother won't look after them.

What I find hard about being a working Mum is that the good scales are never even. Either it's working at work, or it's working at home. Sometimes it's failing at both. But I never feel like it's both working.

Getting back in the swing

I've been feeling a bit rocky recently, and trying to figure out why. I think I've now managed to put my finger on it.

Since I graduated from Uni I've put a lot of pressure on myself to get a career off the ground. Then my husband left, and since then I have really been trying to just keep all the balls in the air until some nameless date in the future when I'll feel like it's all come together. I always seem to spend my life waiting for something, and not really appreciating the 'now'.

I've spoken to some of my friends about this, and it seems to be a common problem. As the generation raised to believe we can have everything, we are rarely actually satisfied.

At the moment, my life is pretty good: I have my kids, my home, my health, a job that fits in around my kids and my new relationship is bringing me a lot of happiness. So why do I still keep finding myself feeling so stressed?

I think the problem is that I'm not good at dividing my life equally, and so I feel like I'm short on everything. The weeks seem to disappear: I can get to Friday and realise I haven't heard my eldest read, or practised his spellings with him. I will, however, check my work emails when I get home, only an hour after leaving the office!

So I need to redress the balance. This week, I'm going to attempt some changes:

1. I am not going to check my work emails from home, or do any extra work at home.
2. I am going to put a restriction on screen time for the kids, so I don't rely on the TV to entertain them from getting home till bedtime - we waste too much time in front of screens in this family!
3. I am going to have at least half an hour to myself each day, without the TV or laptop on: I can waste a whole evening on Mumsnet, Facebook and Twitter, and then realise that I've done nothing...
4. I am going to use my time more effectively, try and keep on top of the housework etc, so I don't feel like I have a mountain to climb at the end of the week.

I'll check back in at the end of the week, and let you know if I feel a bit more focused on the important stuff, and less stressed!

I have a secret to tell you...

... I am still a romantic.

I've always been a romantic - growing up watching eighties movies and reading Sweet Valley High books made me think I'd marry my teenage sweetheart. Unfortunately, I was so desperate for this to happen I managed to hook up with quite a few weirdos in the meantime. But then I did really fall in love and had a healthy happy relationship for ten years. And no, I didn't think it would end how it did and I'm still pretty sad about it, but I don't regret it. I married for love, and I don't think that's something I need to apologise for.

Anyway, I've made quite a lot of noise over the last eighteen months about how I WILL NEVER GET MARRIED AGAIN, EVER. I spent frequent Sunday mornings laughing at Steve Wright's Love Songs show, and in particular making up cruel alternate endings for the people who left dedications. A bit like this:

Radio: "Dear Steve, please will you tell my wife Doris that I lurve her more than anyfink, she is my world. Thanks, Dave."

Me: "Ha! Dave is SO cheating on Doris with Marge from the Co-op. Just sayin'. He is trying to throw her off the scent. Bastard."

I also now watch eighties movies and make snarky remarks about "That's right, you've discovered eyeliner and stopped wearing your hair in a ponytail, now he will DEFINITELY LOVE YOU FOREVER!!! Or until College you dozy high school girl, you!"

As you can see, I am a barrel of laughs to have around. Friends swarm to me on Valentine's Day - honest.

But look, this is all a front. I still believe that you really can meet someone and love them forever. Like in 'Up'. And I'm in that daft just started a new relationship thing, where I think about him all the time, and want to talk to him about everything. I'd love to think that I will feel that way forever, and maybe I will this time. See, even having my heart trampled on hasn't dimmed my romantic hopes.

Three Confessions

1. Boyfriend, I use your shower gel as bubble bath when you're not here. I have not yet used your razor on my legs, but lets face it, it's just a matter of time.

2. Mum, Yes I was upset the other night when you called, I don't actually have a cold. But I still don't want to talk to you about it.

3. Kids, I love you so much. But I cannot WAIT for you to go to your Dad's for a week so that I can catch my breath and tidy the house.

Financial crisis... ish

Has it really been two weeks since I posted? I'm sorry, that's lazy blogging. Time just seems to be running away with me at the moment. And it's taking all my money with it.

A service and MOT on my car last weekend landed me with a bill of over £500. Thank god for credit cards. But I'm painfully aware that the car, my plans for the garden, and my trip to Germany later this year are hanging heavy over me. I've done some maths and while I can afford these things, I need to be pretty careful with my cash and a bit more sensible when it comes to my shopping habits.

I have a pretty bad relationship with money: My parents are keen savers, and as such we were never given pocket money, or allowed to spend our birthday money on fripperies. I'm sure their plan was to make us appreciate the value of things: Actually all that seems to have happened is that now I'm at last in control of my own finances I have a "I want it; I'll have it" attitude. I've had REAL financial troubles in the past though, and I'm keen not to repeat those. I hope I'm getting to a point of balance.

I hate to turn this into a "Why single parents have it so tough" post, but I do feel the weight of financial responsibility pretty heavily. A colleague at work yesterday told me how her husband had paid off her credit card for her. HA! What a fantasy life that would be!

It's not so much the money - it's the fact I have no one to share the burden with. I believe that's one of the toughest things about being a single parent: I have no one to cry over it all with at the end of a day when I've cancelled the direct debit for the gas so I can pay for the electric (NB - It's not that bad really, not yet anyway).

As part of my economy drive, I'm back to meal planning, shopping online, voucher hunting and generally being thrifty. More veggie meals, more home baking instead of buying snacks and I may even begin darning our socks.

(I have no idea how sock darning is thrifty. Or even how you do it.)

Mythbusting about Single Parents... About time

Just wanted to share this fantastic article from Gingerbread, an amazing charity which does all it can to support single parents in the UK

Luke, I am your father...

I love this. You can get a whole book of these on Amazon - http://www.amazon.co.uk/Darth-Vader-Star-Wars-Chronicle/dp/145210655X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1335795566&sr=8-1 I hope my ex-husband doesn't read my blog, because I sooo know what we're getting him for fathers' day now!!

Weird conversations you thought you'd never have

My ex and I sat down today and discussed our impending divorce.

I couldn't maintain eye contact with my ex-husband up until about four months ago. The sight of him on my driveway, or in the car made me feel sick to my stomach. My throat would ache with tears that someone who I had loved so completely could now be such a stranger to me. My blood would boil that someone could make me so ANGRY. Every time I spoke to him, I'd go away swearing and cursing his mother for ever having borne him.

That all changed a couple of months ago, when we had to meet and talk about eldest's schooling. We went for a coffee, and it was awkward. Eventually I had to ask him the questions that had been on my mind for over a year: Does he think I still want him back? Does he think we could have made it work, if we'd given it more time or waited? What did I do wrong in our marriage that made him leave? Did he ever really love me in the beginning? Does he ever worry that he won't find anyone else who made him feel the way I did in the beginning?

No. No. Nothing, we grew apart. Yes, completely. Those were his answers.

Also, he told me he had worried that he wouldn't find anyone and feel that connection again - then he had it with someone, he thought it was going to work out, but it didn't.

Somehow that conversation had to happen - I had to get those answers to move past it. I drove away and had a few tears, but on the whole I felt free and light and happy for the first time.

Today was more evidence of how comfortable we've become with each other. We chatted about our new relationships, laughed about our marriage and our divorce, chatted about the kids and how we can make it easier for them. We've reached a point where we can admit that we'll always care for each other, always want the best for each other.

Essentially, no matter how angry everyone else seems to be about the end of my marriage, I'm at peace with it. I'm happy, I know it was for the best, and I wish him well.

CHOCOLATE

CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE

I may have missed it a bit. Nuff said.

Just needed to share...

That I had my last therapy session today (which was a follow up really, rather than a full on therapy session) and have been officially discharged from the service!! My therapist congratulated me on using the tools I've learnt at CBT to combat some of the things that have cropped up over the last three months.

I look back on the last year, and I can't believe how much things have changed - How much I've changed! I think I've earned the right to celebrate. :)

What do you want?

Someone asked me yesterday: "What are you looking for?" I found it a really tough question to answer. Maybe I'm not sure myself? I don't know if I am looking for something - but I know there's stuff I want. I've been thinking about it ever since, and here are some of the conclusions I've reached:

• I want to fall in love again, properly and completely and a bit scarily.
• I want to be loved again, properly and completely and a bit scarily.
• I want me and my children to stay healthy.
• I want to travel.
• I want to learn about stargazing.
• I want to be able to change a spark plug (Do cars still have spark plugs?)
• I want to not have to worry about money - I don't mind being thrifty, or saving but I don't want to be plagued by money worries.
• I want next door's kids and dogs to shut the hell up.
• I want to walk the Brecons again.
• I want to see my grandchildren.
• I want to feel safe.
• I want to always be able to remember all the words to "Summer of '69" by Bryan Adams.
• I want to not always be thinking about food, or calories.
• I want to live in France for a bit, and have a push bike with a basket on the front for me to put my baguette from the bakery in.
• I want my life to be filled with family and friends and laughter and hugs.
• And beer.

Dear Me,

This is a letter I wrote to myself in the future - in about ten years time, when my boys will be 16 and 14. It was inspired by threads on Mumsnet about teenagers, and how horribly unloveable they can be.

Dear MMM,

I’m writing this letter to you now, because I’m worried that when the boys are teenagers, and they’ve been insulting you or ignoring you all day, you won’t be able to remember these things. So when the eldest has slammed his bedroom door shut for the umpteenth time, or comes home stoned, or leaves a pile of crap in the kitchen for you to wash up, or ALL of the above, read this letter.

When you were 13, you used to go up the woods with a packet of B&H, a lighter, and a can of Charlie red. You lied and sneaked, and thought you were really clever to get away with it.

When you were 16, before you moved out, you once tidied your room by piling a load of stuff into the corner, and putting a blanket over it. You thought that was acceptable.

When you were 15, you stayed out till 3am regularly, without telling your parents where you were, and you didn’t understand why they were so cross. Now, you should know that that anger was really fear.

Just before your sixteenth birthday, you asked your Mum if you could stay at your much older boyfriend’s house, all the while knowing that even if she said no (which she of course did, and rightly so you little tart) you would find a way to stay out even if it meant lying about it.

You did stupid things, like putting tippex on your fingernails and lighting it, and playing about with candles ALL THE TIME, with that incredible arrogant belief that all teenagers have: That bad things happen to other people.

You always stole fags, and you only felt mildly bad about it: Not nearly as bad as you do now.

You never did your own ironing or washing until you left home. And, yeah, Mum hated you touching the kitchen and would have moaned about anything you cooked, but you still should have tried.

You thought you were cleverer than Mum, and you looked down on her because you knew you could argue better than she could. You bragged to your friends that you were more logical than she was. You were a supercilious shit quite regularly.

You lied. All. The. Bloody. Time.

When you argued with Mum or Dad, you went up the woods and cried and felt so terrible about it. Because fighting with the people you love the most is horrible.

Is eldest still in his room? I wonder how he’s feeling.

You should also remember that Mum and Dad weren’t perfect or always right (even though they wanted you to think they were), and that sometimes, all you wanted them to do was admit they might be wrong.

Or you just wanted them to just leave you be, until you came to them.

Or you wanted them to look at you, and see the adult you thought you had become.

I hope these memories help you remember that yes, you really WERE as bad as they are now.

I hope they help you to be patient, and more than anything, I hope that they make you laugh, and stop you from crying in frustration and feeling like you’ve failed the kids.

You haven’t failed them, they’re just figuring out who they are, like you had to. And you didn’t turn out so bad.

(Unless you're reading this in a prison somewhere. Then maybe you did).

Feel the fear and do it anyway

Sorry I've been away readers, I've had a lot of things on my mind lately and blogging hasn't been one of them.

In fact the biggest thing that has been on my mind this week has been my date! Yes, last night I met up with a guy that had messaged me on the dating site I signed up to - www.mumsdatedads.co.uk

Part of my CBT was to look at my automatic negative thoughts and challenge them with evidence. So, for example, my thoughts about the date were:

- He's going to be a weirdo (he must be if he's interested in me)

- It's going to be awkward and we're not going to have anything to say to each other.

- I'm going to totally embarrass myself

- He's actually NOT going to be interested in me, and he's going to leave early.

Even a couple of days ago, I was exhausted by this whole dating thing, and that I was definitely just not ready for it.

I followed my CBT instructions - challenged my thoughts by thinking it's just a date, that I'm good at talking to people I don't know so there's no reason for awkward silences... and it worked.

I've never been on a date - I've just kind of moved from relationship to relationship so never done the dating thing. So when this fella asked if I wanted to go for a drink, I had to do a couple of deep breathing exercises before I said yes!

I've spent all week trying NOT to worry about it, and decided early on I wasn't going to fret too much about what to wear. The text conversation between me and him at times made me worried - thinking he was going to come on too strong, or was looking for something that I wasn't. But (like everyone has been saying to me this week) I told myself it's just a drink and I should just go and enjoy it.

I decided that the most important thing was that I felt comfortable - so I went for jeans and a black tshirt. It sounds a bit tragic but I was really proud of myself that I didn't give in to my usual insecurities and dress up more! That's a big step for me. I was, naturally, ready an hour early and got to the pub 15 minutes early. Some habits are just too built in!

I sat there, waiting for my date to arrive, and had that nervous, tense feeling in my stomach. A couple of times I wondered if I should go through with it, or if I should just text an apology and go home to the cats! But I knew I'd be there early, and I knew I'd panic, so I'd bought a book to read to distract myself. I can tell you, I have no idea what I read. But it did stop me starting the car again.

Said date arrived and we did the awkward talking over each other, embarrassed laugh thing. He said it's his first date for a long time too, which helped because it made me feel more comfortable.

Long story short - I had a really nice time! He was sweet, charming, a total gentleman and we talked for three hours! Drove home with a huge smile on my face and I'm looking forward to seeing him again.

I went on the date (felt the fear and did it anyway!) I had a really good night, met a lovely guy and realised that dating isn't anywhere near as scary as I thought it was.

I know I was lucky to have a great first date experience (and I know from Mumsnet that a lot of people end up with complete crazies through net dating) but also I'm so pleased that I managed my fears, and didn't miss out on a really lovely night because of my irrational fears.

Kids viruses, talking about hobbies and other stuff...

Well, it looks like the kids are ill again... Last week I dodged taking time off work thanks to ex-husband's handy shift pattern but I'm not sure I'll manage it this time. And it's Parents' Evening tomorrow. Looking like a long day.

So, the internet dating thing, we haven't revisited that for a while. I'm nearly at the end of my time on the site and so far I've met NO men. I am texting a couple of guys, but it's a bit awkward. How do you manage a conversation with someone you've never met? All of a sudden hobbies, interests and tastes in films and TV become very important, because those are the questions you ask. I am suddenly defined by my TV planner. Yikes.

My least favourite text-date type question is: "So what are your hobbies?" because quite frankly, I don't really have any. I watch DVD boxsets (usually quite bad ones, at the moment it's Ghost Whisperer because I've run out of Grey's Anatomy that I can watch legally) and I surf the net. Occasionally I remember to blog. I enjoy cooking, but that's mainly because I like eating. I have made two pairs of earrings so don't think I can claim that I enjoy jewellery making as a hobby.

I'm a bit disturbed by the fact that I don't have an 'activity' that I enjoy. Other people (read: normal people) seem to have a sport that they like to do. I've yet to find a sport I can suffer through enough to call it a hobby. I'm enjoying the challenge of the exercise DVD (yes, I am still doing it) but is it a hobby? Not really.

Other than the fact that in dating terms, that makes me about as interesting as magnolia paint, I'm also concerned by what this says about my quality of life. Essentially, due to the lack of a hobby, I'm filling my days with work, the kids and the house. WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY TIME?! I have no idea!!

This is why number five on the list is so important! I must find an activity that I actually like. And that I can actually maintain. And preferably, one that will mean I meet some new people. Surely it can't be that hard?! Suggestions in the comment box please, folks.